


A Way Out (Hole in the Sun/Street Rat Ending 1)

by alley_cat_toulouse



Series: Hole in the Sun [2]
Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Choose Your Own Ending, Gen, Mental Health Issues, OMG please understand there is nothing happy in this fic, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:42:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28211091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_cat_toulouse/pseuds/alley_cat_toulouse
Summary: Choose your ending for Hole in the Sun (Street Rat)... or read them both, I'm not your mom. This is the sad ending. You have been warned.Without Jackie, there is no V.
Relationships: Female V & Jackie Welles, Misty Olszewski/Jackie Welles, V & Jackie Welles
Series: Hole in the Sun [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2066091
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> BIG FAT TW for suicide. Sorry for the spoiler, but I want you to consent to that content before you read on, okay? If you don't want to read that, then this isn't the ending for you. I recommend the other Hole in the Sun ending, [Run With Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28232343/chapters/69182700). If you still want to go for it, you're relatively safe up until the triple line break towards the end. From there, skip to the next chapter.
> 
> Please be kind to yourselves, and reach out if you need it.

Waking up alone in that dump was the worst moment of V’s life. Waking up alone every morning after was a close second. She wished it would just stop. It didn’t.

* * *

V had avoided this moment for as long as she could, but it was too late. The huddled figure of Misty on the step outside Jackie’s garage raised a hand in greeting. V’s steps slowed, but continued trudging forward. The first domino was falling, she couldn’t stop this anymore than she could a wave coming onto shore.

She’d hoped she could have a chance to visit the garage alone, but she couldn’t begrudge Misty for wanting the same.

“You hoping he’ll come back, too?” V asked as she drew close. Her shadow fell across Misty, larger than life. For a moment, it felt like it wasn’t hers, but his.

Misty smiled sadly. “Been sitting here, just for an hour or two, most days since he…” She couldn’t finish, shaking her head. It wasn’t enough to lose the love of her life, she was also losing the love of Jackie’s life. It was just a matter of time. V sat beside her on the step, wrapping an arm around Misty and resting her chin on the younger girl’s head. She didn’t know what possessed her to do it--it wasn’t something V would typically do. _It’s something Jackie would, though._

“I keep thinking I’ll roll that door up, and there he’ll be, elbow-deep in the ARCH’s engine, having lost track of time again,” V admitted. It was such a familiar scenario that it felt wrong it would never play out again. Misty laughed softly, well familiar with their Jackie’s habit. She’d been stood up more than once, only to receive a call later to explain.

“He loved you so much,” V continued, feeling Misty sag into her shoulder, “Was always telling me how sweet you were, how much you got him. He could be a stupid man, but he knew what he had in you.”

“In us,” Misty responded. Her voice was muffled by V’s jacket, “He loved us both, and we both loved him.”

Someone had once said that, if we wanted the rewards of being loved, we had to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known. Funny thing was, Misty never made the ordeal feel mortifying. V was just… known. Whether she wanted it or not, Misty knew.

“I asked him to run,” V admitted. She hated telling Misty that she’d asked Jackie to leave and not look back, hated admitting that her urge to flee overruled her care for Misty. “Before the job, y’know. Had… had a knot in my stomach I couldn’t untwist and I just wanted to go and never look back. Take him with me. He wouldn’t go.”

Misty’s voice was tender as she responded, “I wish he had.” V did, too.

“Have you been in?” V’s head jerked towards the door.

“I don’t have the key.” V had a hard time believing that Jackie wouldn’t have given his girlfriend a key to his place. Misty clarified, saying, “He offered, but I thought he needed a space that was his own, y’know?”

Jackie hadn’t even asked V, just pressed the key into her hand after she set down the box of his things she was carrying. He’d helped her move into her place shortly before, and she had returned the favor. They both knew if he asked, she’d just want to run, so he didn’t ask.

“Do you wanna go in? I have a key… You know Jackie--he always wanted to make sure the door was open if I wanted to wander back in.”

Misty weighed the idea for a moment, before nodding. “Yeah. It’s strange without him, but I want to.”

“Together then, huh?”

* * *

V had thought waking up alone in that muddy landfill had been the worst day of her life. She was wrong. Here, in the Coyote Cojo, hands trembling as she clung to the table for dear life and stared down at the too-small urn, she knew that _this_ was the worst day of her life. How could such a small canister hold all of Jackie? 

Jackie, who’d always been larger than life, not only in form but in dreams and personality and laughter? It was wrong, like seeing something you shouldn’t see. A glitch of a lifetime. 

She hadn’t been able to find words to say, but it didn’t matter. Mama Welles, Misty, Vik, Padre… anyone who mattered to her knew she’d lost a piece of herself in that cab. Jackie had always been the one to do the talking, anyways.

Beside his photo, she laid down the first thing he’d ever given her. It was such a tiny shard, useless to her now that she had her own apartment and he’d had his garage, but she’d kept the key to the Welles’ apartment anyways.

“I’m not givin’ up on ya, holmes,” She whispered. 

* * *

Slowly, she’d paid her respect to those present, tossing back shots when offered, saving Misty for last. V found her lingering on the edge of the gathering, out of place but still hurting with the rest of them. Still, she found it in her to smile at the blue-haired merc as V drew close.

“Mama Welles invited me over for dinner tomorrow,” She murmured, looking like she couldn’t believe the offer. V’s mouth quirked up at the corner, relieved that the older woman had listened. She wouldn’t have chosen Misty over Camila, but she wouldn’t have chosen V, either. It wasn’t her choice though--it had been Jackie’s.

“You going?” V asked, perching on the edge of the pool table next to them.

“I think I might. Make… well, I can’t say friends, but maybe she’d share him with me.” 

V reached out and ruffled Misty’s messy hair. She was happy for them both. They’d need each other to cling to in these upcoming months. Misty returned the gesture, but then smoothed V’s hair around her face. Always the carer.

“You wanna come?” She offered, looking hopeful. V could be a good buffer. She shook her head, though.

“I… I’m not such a good dinner guest anymore. Never know when I’m going to slip.”

Misty hummed. “How is your… _guest_ , anyways?”

V looked up, meeting Misty’s eyes. For the first time ever, she lied to her friend. “Settled in and letting me enjoy what I have left. It’s as good as I could hope for.” She hopped off the pool table pulling Misty into an embrace. “I should get going. Love you.”

Misty hugged her back. “Love you, too. Take care of yourself, honey.”

“Bye, Misty.”

* * *

She remembered taking the gun from Jackie’s hands as he grew weaker and weaker in the back of the Delamain, his precious lifeblood soaking into the plush upholstery. It felt like watching a braindance to remember--too vibrant to be just a memory. The cold chill of the gold-plated slide on her back as she slipped it down the back of her suit’s waistband. How hot Jackie’s blood was, gushing over her fingers as she tried to stem the bleeding. Her screams as she demanded the car take them to Vik’s instead.

How the gun had stayed with her through everything that happened in the aftermath was a mystery, but here it was, heavy and real in her palm. In the corner of her vision, _he_ glitched and shimmered, watching her. Mercifully, he didn’t comment. She couldn’t stand the grate of his voice against her frayed nerves.

V looked up from the gun, out the window. It was still splattered with blood and spit and snot from a few days before. Such bitter words, screamed in her face. The bruises had faded a bit, but the words had not. 

With a renewed purpose, V stood, checking the magazine of Jackie’s gun before sliding it into place against the small of her back. She picked up her riding jacket, too big on her and tattered, but still smelling like Jackie. It had been his first one, long outgrown. The key for the ARCH was on the coffee table, beside her flask. She pocketed both.

“Going for a ride,” She said brusquely, heading out the door before Johnny could disappear.

* * *

* * *

* * *

The overlook hadn’t changed since she was up here last. Of course, why would it have? It had only been a week. Not the decade that it felt like. V pulled the bike onto the shoulder and killed the engine. The edge beckoned, and she listened to its call. Her feet dangled into thin air as she looked out at the city, innocuous in the daylight. From her pocket, she pulled the flask of tequila, holding it out in a silent toast before downing a healthy slug. God, it burned so badly on the way down. She’d never liked tequila. She took another drink, before capping it and pitching it into the void.

It swept through her system easily, joining all the shots she’d thrown back an hour prior at the _ofrenda_. Thoughtlessly, she dialed Jackie’s number and listened to it ring. Her heart panged when it clicked over to voicemail.

“Jack, it’s me. Fuck, man… I miss you. Night City ripped my heart out again, but this time it really did kill me, I just haven’t bled out yet.” V paused, drawing a quivering breath. “But I’ll see you real soon, okay? _Te quiero mucho,_ Jackie.”

V let the line close. Johnny hovered on the edges of her vision. So he had come, after all. He wasn’t speaking, but that didn’t stop his voice from playing over and over again in her head.

_Stick some iron in your mouth and pull the trigger. Lead to the head, only thing that’ll fix this. Hear me, asshole? A bullet to the fucking brain!_

The construct looked apprehensive, for the first time since she’d seen him. V ignored him, sending a text to Vik, telling him where she was. Finally, she looked at Johnny, holding up something she’d fished out of her pocket.

“Trust me. It’s so much kinder this way.”

There was a flash of a silver hand reaching for her and a growl of _“Don’t!”_ but the omega blocker went down her throat like throwing back a shot, even without a chaser. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it as fully herself. No terrorist anarchist asshole to watch.

With a practiced ease born of years on the streets, V drew Jackie’s gun from her waistband, racked the slide, and placed it to her temple. The hammer fell, and then there was nothing.

_Run with me._


	2. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW Death, but I guess you knew that already.

This time, death welcomed V with open arms. It was warm and safe in its embrace, and when she looked up, her eyes found a smile, green eyes crinkling at the edges. His breath was warm on her face as he stooped to press his forehead to hers, both of their eyes sliding shut at the contact. There was no rush to pull away, nothing to distract them from this moment. Just Jackie’s arms around her, his face on hers, his heart beating its tattoo against hers. She could stay like this forever. She could choose that. No more running.

_ Ey, V. _


End file.
